


Cruel Fate

by Rhysanoodle



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Mating Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysanoodle/pseuds/Rhysanoodle
Summary: Elain and Azriel’s relationship is turned on its head when he suddenly discovers that he has a mate.I hope y’all enjoy some Elriel angst just in time for Valentine’s Day.
Relationships: Elain Archeron/Azriel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

Azriel wished they had never come here. Ever since he and Elain had entered the tavern in Day, the hair on his arms had been standing on edge. It was ridiculous, considering the decades of peace they’d had with the court and the fact that Azriel himself even felt relatively safe and comfortable here whenever he wasn’t dealing with Helion—though the flirting had simmered down significantly since Azriel’s girlfriend had given the High Lord a wicked glare not long after they came together.

Elain was quiet, yet when she felt the need to express herself, even the High Lords of the Courts sat down and listened. Not in small part because her visions had saved their asses on countless occasions.

No, tonight something felt different—off. Some premonition was causing his skin to crawl, and he was seconds away from asking Elain to work her magic just to ease his anxiety. Perhaps if she could confirm that nothing harrowing would be happening to their friends and family, or themselves, he’d be able to enjoy their night off—one of the few they had as they played glorified messengers for their own sovereigns.

But then, one of the roaming waitresses approached their table, handed them menus, and Azriel’s very frame of existence shrank to the female before him. Her rich brown skin and flowing waves and russet eyes singing to him as he had to physically force himself to remain still in his chair.

Yes, if he remained still, then nothing strange could happen. Perhaps she wouldn’t scent him, and they could go on their merry ways. He could put this whole business behind him.

Elain—thank the Cauldron—was too focused on perusing the different dessert options to be sparing him a passing glance, but surely that would change any second, and Azriel just needed to get out of there before his male instincts did something incredibly, incredibly idiotic.

But before he could suggest that he wasn’t particularly in the mood for something sweet and perhaps they should just retire to their room, Elain was smiling up at the shy female, ordering a blackberry tart and settling in against the back of her chair.

Azriel finally found his voice and ordered a tankard of ale, all the while boring holes into the tabletop with his eyes, until thankfully, the female, sensing she’d been dismissed, retreated from the table.

He took a deep breath, allowing air to fully permeate his lungs for the first time in over a minute and curled his hands into fists beneath the table, allowing his nails to dig into his palms. He needed the constant prickle of pain in order to maintain his composure. In order to keep his eyes on his beloved whom he cared for more than anything else in the world. In order to reel in his shadows and keep them from gravitating toward the one person in the room he’d rather forget existed.

Azriel had given up a long time ago on finding a mate. They were so incredibly rare that it was likely that if he hadn’t found one after a few centuries, one didn’t exist for him. When Elain had broken the bond with Lucien in favor of Azriel, it hadn’t even occurred to him that there was even a scrap of possibility that anyone fated for him could exist past her. She was the sun in his sky which allowed his shadows to flourish.

What a cruel twist of fate that one had existed all along, only for the Cauldron to draw them together after he was _happy_ —after he’d gone through hell and back for the female he loved. He just needed to get out of this court before he went insane. He need to distance himself from this torture.

“Az, what’s wrong?” Elain laid a hand to his arm, a hint of alarm in her eyes.

He unfurled one of his fists, tenderly placing his hand atop hers. “Nothing, dear. I’m just feeling a little unwell.” That’s all this was, right? Something was wrong with the very core of his being, destined to cruel tragedies for all his life. Just when he was finally happy, something had to come along to threaten that. Something which he felt he had such little control over. “Perhaps after you finish your tart, we can go back to the palace. I don’t think I have a stomach for my drink anymore.”

She frowned at him but nodded, rubbing his thigh soothingly under the table. He found himself thanking the Cauldron that his knotted muscles began to unwind a fraction, Elain still proving to have a hold over him, enough to bring him back from this edge.

He leaned over, pressing a kiss into her hair and breathing her in, willing her scent to override the one which had seared itself into his nostrils.

She took hold of the conversation, driving him away from his insanity and distracting him as she spoke of her antics with Lucien during the meeting this afternoon. The two might not have worked out, yet they had remained the best of friends, and Elain always cherished these trips to Day. 

In truth, Azriel had too, for it was always entertaining to see her banter with the old fox. Old grudges had been buried long ago for her sake.

Not to mention that the High Lord’s son was a powerful ally with the blood of both Day and Autumn flowing through his veins.

Azriel held his breath when he sensed her approaching once more with the items they had ordered, staring firmly at the tabletop before him until long after his shadows had indicated that she was on the other side of the room. His agony was almost over, though now, with the lull in conversation due to Elain’s mouth being full of pastry, the silence was deafening, Azriel having to fight his every thought off of the beauty in the corner of the room.

Elain offered him a bite, knowing that though he wasn’t particularly fond of sweets, this was one of the few desserts he made an exception for, but Azriel merely gritted his teeth and shook his head. She hurried, a look of growing concern on her face, and the second she set down her fork, Azriel was rocketing out of his seat, throwing far too much gold on the table, and offering his lover an arm so they could get the fuck out of there as expediently as possible.

She hastily grabbed on, letting him steer her outside before they stepped under and awning shrouded in shadows and with little self control and far more dramatics than necessary, Azriel stepped through the creeping darkness back into Helion’s palace.

He could feel a shiver creeping down his spine, as if he were facing withdrawal, the force of the bond clicking into place having wracked his body, so he briefly mumbled an apology to Elain, rushing into the bathing chamber to splash some water on his face. It still didn’t do quite enough to shock his senses back into shape. That scent still burned in his nostrils, and he was restless—a thread pulling him back in the direction of that tavern.

When he exited minutes later, he found Elain waiting on their bed, clearly unsure of whether she was supposed to comfort him or leave him to wither alone. He rarely fell ill, and never had he just pushed her away in those moments.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured under his breath, feeling as if he were betraying her with every fiber of his being.

“What are you sorry about, Az? What’s going on with you?” She cocked her head, eyes widening as she took him in, panting haggardly, slow to approach her.

“I don’t know what came over me.” He did, but how did he explain this to her? Her manifestation of the bond with Lucien hadn’t been nearly this potent. She claimed to have felt heightened emotions when they were together, but the male had always been the one pained to be in her presence before they became close.

“You’re not being completely honest with me,” she prodded gently. “Listen, if you aren’t ready to talk to me about it, I get it, but …”

Why was she acting like she knew? “I—” he stuttered out, raking a damp hand through his hair.

“When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be outside,” she murmured before stepping out onto the balcony.

* * *

Elain had known this day would come. Even though her visions were subject to change, some variation of this one had appeared to her far too often for it to be coincidence.

At first, she had hoped it was a nightmare, but when it kept recurring, the female always the same, the details becoming increasingly vivid, she had realized what these premonitions really were.

She had known exactly who had approached the table to take their order. She had noticed the way Azriel had tensed, the fact that her usually so observant and curious boyfriend had frozen, not even bothering to glance around the tavern throughout the duration of their time there. She even understood why he hadn’t wanted to talk about it in that room so full of ears searching for gossip. She had done her best to distract him, not expecting him to be able to carry the conversation.

The thing she didn’t comprehend is why he hadn’t just told her the moment they had been alone. Surely, she of all people could understand what he was going through, having had a mate of her own. But perhaps what he didn’t want her to hear were the doubts in his own words as he had to sit there and tell her that he still loved her despite it all.

Certainly, it was possible, but now she had her own doubts that even a male of such firm resolve could truly resist its thrall. Lucien had confided in her about the agony he’d experienced during those years in which they weren’t speaking, and she’d been able to feel what she assumed was a muted version of the pull as they’d grown closer.

She wanted to support Azriel. It wasn’t a tea party having a mate whom one wasn’t interested in, and she’d lived it. But how was she supposed to do that if he kept maintaining the guise that he was merely ill, even when they were alone together?

Her heart plummeted, as she stared out into the admittedly beautiful Day sunset, a chill beginning to creep through the air as the dry heat from the sun was starting to fade. In her mind, she’d always gotten herself through the anxiety of worrying about it by imagining that they’d laugh it off after the initial shock, that he’d instantly pull her into his arms, reminding her that she was his one and only and that the Cauldron could go fuck itself.

Reality stung much more.

A tear slid down her cheek as she fought to keep her breathing even, measured, praying that he couldn’t hear it even through the closed balcony doors. Though she trusted that he didn’t spy on her, she wouldn’t put it past one of his shadows to be lurking nearby, ready to report back to him as he tried to figure out his next move. He wasn’t the cold, cunning spymaster of Night for nothing. Elain knew that better than anyone.

She could suggest them moving on, shortening their trip to Day, pulling him away from _her_ just to try to get him back to herself, but that merely prolonged the issue of what he was going to do. 

There was no way Azriel could avoid the Day Court forever, and he would need to confront his mate eventually. And with the way she’d been eyeing him from across the room, it was unlikely that the other female would just forget about the encounter. They’d clearly both felt the tug of the bond clicking into place.

The door creaked open behind her, yet Elain didn’t tear her gaze away from the landscape, allowing the railing to support her weight as she waited for what she dreaded was coming.

“Elain.” Azriel’s voice broke on the word, yet she still couldn’t find it within herself to move. Her body had shut down completely.

“El, please.” He had crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle.

“Is—Is there something you want to tell me?” It was hard to get the words out with the tightening in her throat, the result of trying to hold herself back from the brink of breaking out into sobs.

“You know.” It wasn’t a question. She nodded in response.

“How long have you known?” Almost an accusation, as if every moment he’d spent inside their bedroom steeling himself had been spent puzzling out this conclusion. It was the truth, but it still stung for her to hear.

When she merely sat there figuring out how to answer this question without upsetting him further, he pressed on. “How long, Elain?”

“I first saw her three years ago,” Elain admitted, knowing that she’d kept it from him for far too long but still not understanding how she ever could have just brought this up in casual conversation.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” She could hear the hurt in his voice, the bitter sense of betrayal from this secret harbored away for so many years.

“How could I tell you, Azriel?” She stared intently at the ground before her. “How could I just randomly dump the fact that you had a mate on you when there was no guarantee that you'd ever meet her?” He didn’t need to know that every time one chance encounter from her visions was subverted, another popped up. And then another. And another.

“If I had known, then at least I could have been prepared. At least we could’ve _talked_ about it so I was completely blindsided in a random tavern in Day. Did you even think about that? I thought … I thought there was no way I could even be mated after this long.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the second we landed here? Why did you insist on acting ill? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the symptoms? You’re talking to _me_ , Az. If anyone knows what it’s like to have a mate thrown in their face, it’s _me_.”

“You can’t avoid the fact that it might not have happened if you’d just been honest from the start—”

“So what?” Elain’s low burning anger at his failure to confide in her had been stoked, steadily burning brighter until its flame escaped her. “It doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“Same could be said of you,” he murmured back, and Elain felt his slight shift backwards.

This whole situation had just careened out of control, from Elain’s inclination to fervently convincing herself that this day would never come to Azriel’s reactions and the way he was confronting her. She thought she was going to be sick.

She spun, pulling out of his grasp, and walking back into the bedroom. “Where are you going?” Azriel asked, concern in his voice.

“I think I just need some space, Az.”

“Elain, please,” he begged. “What am I supposed to do? How do I make this better?”

“Just give me some time to myself,” was all she muttered as she began packing her belongings into her luggage. She needed to get out of this room. She needed to think. She needed to let Azriel explore this for himself.

“Where are you going? What am I supposed to do?” Azriel’s voice was panicked, but Elain couldn’t stand here for another minute without doing something she might regret.

“I’m going to ask Lucien for other rooms. Just … I’ll see you at the end of the week, after I’ve cleared my head and you have too. You need to ...” The words burned the back of her throat, practically refusing to come out. “Figure out where you stand. I felt you back at the restaurant. You were a hair’s breadth away from losing control the whole time. You deserve to be able to explore that without me standing in the way.”

“But I don’t _want_ to explore this. I don’t _want_ anyone but you, Elain.” Even now, she could hear the tightness in his throat, as his every instinct fought him tooth and nail as he kept trying to keep her in his grasp.

“I wish I could believe that, Az. I do. But you and I both know how strong this is, and it isn’t just going away if we disappear back to Velaris tonight.” With that, Elain slipped out the door, allowing herself to get at least a few doors down the hallway before she let herself begin crying in earnest.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” Lucien asked in alarm as Elain barreled into his quarters, feeling for all the world as if her life had just fractured beneath her grasp. She shouldn’t have left Azriel. What if … What if he ran right to his mate and forgot all about her? But would it be any better if they had stayed together and she had fought for him only to lose him in the end? **  
**

It was only when Lucien swept her up, carrying her onto the couch that she realized she was shaking in his arms. It was only much later, consisting of much coaxing and consoling from her friend before she was finally able to relay the whole story to Lucien.

“I—I don’t know what to do, Luc. I already miss him, but I couldn’t just sit there and watch while he wrestled with himself. There’s some part of him which clearly wants her, and just the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach.”

Here, with his arm wrapped around her, she was finally beginning to calm down, though her heart was nowhere near mending from its abrasions. Lucien had always had this calming effect on her. The mating bond was long gone, yet Elain still liked to fancy that some bond of friendship still supernaturally linked the two of them. It had soothed the sting of breaking the bond in those early days, even though they hadn’t worked out as partners. Soul aches were no joke.

“You said that he told you he didn’t want the bond, Ellie.” Lucien shushed her reassuringly.

“You weren’t there in that restaurant with him. If he’d caught another whiff of her, he might’ve lost all control. He may _think_ he doesn’t want her, but he’s not acting like he can outlast the bond much longer.”

“Not to be too much of a devil’s advocate, but it’s very difficult to fight for a male.” His voice was tentative, as if afraid he might upset her further.

“You were able to though,” Elain countered.

“Because I physically couldn’t be near you for the first couple of months. I think it was only that which kept me from snapping. But don’t think it wasn’t painful for me. I’d just learned by the time I finally got to the Night Court how to deal with that pain, so when you pretended I didn’t exist, I just kept … existing as I had been when I was still in Spring.”

“So you think I should … just forget about the fact that he obviously wants her and tried to hide it from me?”

“I think you should take care of yourself, but when you’re ready to talk to him again, you need to be open to listening to what he has to say, at the very least. If Vassa had just written me off because I was close to my mate, I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

“He’s going to come looking for me.” Elain shrank further into the couch. “I’m not sure he’ll be willing to wait.”

“That male waited years for you to be in a place where you were ready to be with him. Surely he can wait for a few days—I don’t think you can get out of seeing him when you head back to Velaris—but if it really makes you feel better, you can stay here. My quarters are warded so he can’t just walk in. I doubt that he’d use those shadows of his to see you against your wishes.”

“Aww thanks, Luc, but won’t Vassa mind if I’m staying with you two?”

“She’s off on the continent. The trials and tribulations of inheriting lands so far apart.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind the company. I might even let you take the bed.”

Honestly, even his couch was beginning to look appealing for Elain to just sink into. “Can I get food sent to the room? I’m not sure I really want to go to meals for awhile, considering …”

“You’ll have whatever you need. Now, go take a good, long bath to relax and crawl in bed. I’ll make sure you have a pick-me-up cake waiting for you.”

Elain smiled at her best friend, who was so in tune with her needs and slipped off into the bathing chamber.

* * *

Azriel cradled his face in his hands, as he sat on the edge of their bed. It wasn’t supposed to have happened like this. It wasn’t supposed to have happened at all.

Of course— _of course_ —the moment he found just a sliver of happiness, the Cauldron decided to fuck him over, throwing a wrench in his relationship with the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Elain was his everything. Being around her had started out as being a slow-building friendship, but soon he’d found that he craved her company in a way he never had before with anyone other than Mor. But Elain gave him more, even as he waited for her to be ready to fall in love again.

He hated this fragment of himself which was screaming at him to go back to the tavern and try to learn more about the mysterious female who had only said a handful of words to him. With every ounce of his being, he wished he could fight it, yet he knew that he would eventually crack.

Curiosity had always gotten the best of Azriel, and even now, he was actively having to fight to keep his shadows close to him. He probably should have chased Elain. Now that he had been able to run their conversation through his head over and over again, he realized that it might have sated her a bit. At least enough to listen as he pleaded with her to stay. For without her, who was going to save him from himself? Who was going to pull Azriel out of the deep descent of the spiral he was already falling into?

Tomorrow. He would give her the night and then go searching for her tomorrow. And then … Well, he wasn’t sure exactly what he would do about his mate. He needed to meet her—to address the elephant in the room which he knew they had both felt—but with Elain by his side, it would be so much easier to not fall prey to his instincts. Just her presence had kept him sane before he could spirit them away.

He curled up in a ball on the mattress, far too big for just one person and prayed he’d be able to make it through the night.

* * *

Elain wasn’t at breakfast the next morning, and neither was Lucien.

Of course she had gone running back to her mate—bond intact or no. She’d told him as much last night, but he didn’t realize that perhaps it meant the other male would be comforting her in his stead. 

He felt his jaw tick at that thought. While Lucien might be with Vassa now, while their bond might be broken, there was some fragment deep within Azriel which did wonder if the male would take her back if she came running.

Azriel didn’t know exactly where he stood with Elain. She wanted space, but did that mean that she was done with him? Did it mean that she might be separated from him only to find herself happier without him in her life? Maybe she didn’t need him anymore.

Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore, so he excused himself from the table, having to combat the urge to pummel Helion for being so gods-damn chipper.

There was only one place for him to go, and he found his shadows leaking away from his form, searching the castle until they found the fox’s chambers and led him there.

He knocked once. Twice. He was about to raise his hand to try a third and final time when the door cracked open to reveal a swaggering male. Though Lucien was slighter than him, Azriel couldn’t help but feel as if he was dwarfed by the male standing with his arms crossed, blocking Azriel’s view into the room beyond.

“What do you want?” The hostility in his voice crushed any doubts that Azriel had about whether or not Lucien knew about last night.

“Is she here? I need to talk to her.”

“She doesn’t want to see you right now. I think you’d best respect her wishes.” Lucien was not giving him even an inch. Short of forcing his way through—which he was positive would only make her hate him more—there was no way he was getting into this room.

Resigning himself to this fact, hoping the other male could hear the desperation in his voice, he asked, “Is she at least okay?”

“She’s been through a lot. She’s as fine as she can be right now. You should probably leave.”

Wings falling until they drooped on the floor at the finality, Azriel turned, not bothering to bid Lucien farewell. He didn’t give two shits that he could feel every bump and crevice in the stone floors jolting into his sensitive wings as he paid his penance for being foolish enough to think that she wouldn’t turn him away.

By the time he returned to their rooms, he realized that there was only one other thing that made sense for him to do in his free time today.

* * *

The small tavern was quieting down, the breakfast crowd dispersing as Azriel arrived. He hoped she was on shift today, because he didn’t want to have to ask around for her. The embarrassment would be too grating, especially if she had gone ahead and told any of her coworkers about what had passed last night.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Azriel caught her scent, one which his innate senses would recognize anywhere, like it or not. His eyes scanned the small dining chamber before locking on her, tending the bar in the back of the room.

He stalked over to the countertop and took a seat, removing himself from the scant other patrons who thought it acceptable to be drinking at this hour.

Her eyes darted to him nervously, but when he made no move to signal her, standing down and waiting for her to approach, she grew more bold.

“Is there an-anything I can get for you?” If Azriel looked up, he was sure that he would find her trembling in anticipation.

“I just wanted to talk.”

“N-now’s not the best time. My shift just started, but I’m free tonight, if you wanted to grab a bite to eat?”

It was a feeling question. One which Azriel should have had the good sense to say no to. He was powerful enough that he could merely _tell_ the tavern owner that his bartender was going on a little break, and the greasy male would likely shit his britches.

But that would scare her, and the mere thought of doing something to harm her, even just slightly, had the meager contents of his stomach threatening to upturn themselves.

He nodded. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do tonight. Lucien had made it very clear that his reason for existence would be avoiding him for the foreseeable future. “Where?” was all he managed to force out.

“There’s a small diner a few blocks north. It’s … It’s a good place to talk.” So at least she knew that there would only be talking involved in this outing. He wanted to get to know her, to know _why_ they had been drawn together by fate, yet he refused to betray Elain.

“See you at seven?” he asked as he rose to leave. She nodded tentatively, probably utterly terrified of the veritable maelstrom of shadows which he had lost mastery of in her presence.

As Azriel turned toward the door he remembered … “What’s your name?” How he had gone this long without learning it was completely unbeknownst to him.

“Selene,” she murmured.

“Azriel.” He didn’t wait for her to say another word, to draw her further in with her gravitational pull before walking out the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Azriel’s body physically shuddered when Selene walked into the diner. He instantly felt terrible that he was still donning leathers when she had clearly gone to a great length to dress up for him. She was now in a light cotton dress with her curls swept off her face on either side.

She took the seat across from him, and Azriel had to continuously fight the urge to reach out and touch her.

“So …” she exhaled.

“So …” he replied having no idea where to begin.

“You’re my mate.”

“And you’re mine.”

“Yet, you don’t want this. With me.” Her eyes were downturned, her expression forcibly muted.

“It’s complicated,” was the only thing Azriel could think to say, knowing that uttering the truth was utterly impossible right now. It would sting too much.

“Is she your wife?”

“Not yet, but … I had hoped … We were already planning our lives together.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“She is. But she’s so much more than that. She’s my everything, Selene.”

“And if she one day finds her mate too?”

“She already did. They’re no longer mated.”

“Oh.” So clearly she had still held some small kernel of hope that perhaps Azriel’s instincts could just override what he felt for Elain.

“It’s very hard to keep myself away from you, Selene, but I wanted to at least get to know you. This … This can’t go anywhere. I’d prefer to break the bond tonight, if you’ll oblige me, but I can’t just let you walk out of my life without knowing why the Cauldron would bond us together.”

“I see.” There was still that hesitation, but Azriel got the sense that she wouldn’t refuse him this. She may be put off by finding a mate only to have him reject her, but she wasn’t stupid. It would only torment them both if they left the bond intact and went about their lives separately.

“I can tell you a little about me, if that will help.” At her meek nod, he continued, “I was born a bastard almost six centuries in one of the Illyrian war camps. Hence the wings.” He tipped his head at them and emphasized his rounded ears.

“I didn’t have a great childhood, but when I was a teenager, I met my brothers. They got me through the worst of it. Through the wars which followed. Since then, I’ve spent the last few centuries as Rhysand’s spymaster.” He noticed her throat bob at that revelation.

“You’re _that_ Azriel? Oh gods. And that would make your girlfriend—”

“Elain Archeron.”

“I’ve heard so much about both of you. You-you saved us all in the war,” she stuttered, eyes widening. 

“That was all Elain. My shadows just … assisted her. Make no mistake.”

“But how could you not be mated with her? I mean, I know ...”

“I’ve asked myself that question every day for the past five years. Sometimes, I wonder if the Cauldron didn’t just choose her mate arbitrarily, but when I see her with Lucien …” He shook his head. “It makes sense, even if they never fell in love with each other. They’re still soulmates in a way.”

“And that’s what you want for us?”

“I greatly desire to know you, and I’d be honored if we became friends, but yes. I can’t stand the existence of this bond hurting her anymore.” Gods, he was admitting this to someone who was practically a stranger, even if she felt so familiar. “Tell me about you.”

“I don’t see that there’s much to tell, honestly. I’m not nearly as old as you are. I was born about a century ago. I had barely hit maturity when Amarantha took hold, so I just kept my head low and got this job at the tavern. Something about it stuck, and I just haven’t felt the need to leave. It got me through the worst of times, and after working with the same people for half a century, you get attached. Seems rather boring, as I’ve never even left Day.” A flush crept into her cheeks.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I would’ve ever left the Illyrian war camps if I hadn’t been drafted into service by the High Lord. It’s not a failure to have stayed so sheltered, but if you ever wanted to visit the Night Court, we would be happy to host you.”

“Really? You think Elain wouldn’t mind?”

“I think her biggest issue is the threat of the bond. She gave up so much when she rejected her own, but she knows that it’s more difficult for us males to resist. I'm not lying when I say that she’s upset with me, but I hope to fix that. Starting with this.”

When she didn’t respond right away, he went on, “I can tell you’re disappointed. It’s not often that this sort of bond is rejected. Just remember that it has nothing to do with you. It’s not a dismissal of you but a following of my heart. I’ve never been as unhappy in a long time as I’ve been since she ran off last night.”

“I am, but I do understand. I admire the lengths you’d go to be able to keep her. I hope to find that for myself someday.”

“You will, Selene. And it will all be worth it.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. But you’re buying me a drink later.”

He grinned, thrilled with the way the evening had unfolded. “You can have as many as you like.”

* * *

It took Azriel until the next evening to finally track Lucien down. It seemed that the fox had been hiding out with his charge as well, the better to avoid Azriel in his entirety, but when one of his shadows sensed the other male approaching the kitchens, it had him barreling down to the first floor of the palace posthaste.

The shadowsinger caught the fox rifling through the fridge and wedged himself in the doorway, taking a slight delight in the way Lucien jumped when he turned, arms laden with a tray and found Azriel staring him down.

“Nothing’s changed,” was all Lucien offered him as he moved to step past Azriel.

“I didn’t think it had, but I need your help.”

“You expect me to betray her?” There was nothing kind about the way Lucien was boring into Azriel with his eyes.

“I expect that you don’t like seeing her upset any more than I do, and I have a plan to fix it.”

“I get that you’re probably sorry that you tried to conceal your mate from her, but that alone isn’t going to just magically fix things for her. She just needs time.”

“What if I told you I didn’t have a mate?”

Lucien’s posture instantly loosened. “I’m listening.”

“Yesterday, I sought her out and asked her outright if she would break the bond with me. She was reluctant, but she realized that no good could come out of forcing us to keep the bond intact. It would be nothing but pain as I fought against it. After talking to her for awhile, we broke the bond. Elain needs to know.”

“And you want me to tell her?”

“I want you to help me see her. I want you to convince her that I deserve another chance.”

“Breaking the bond is nice, and I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. But that’s not worth risking my neck to pull her out of her comfort zone. You can tell her when you’re back home. It’s only a few more days.”

Azriel chafed. He’d been hoping that the knowledge of what he’d done would be enough to convince the other male. He wasn’t particularly keen on revealing his secrets. “Just make sure she’s at the Solstice Ball at the end of the week.”

“Oh, will you not be going?”

“Of course I’ll be there. I have … plans for the evening.”

Lucien just stood there mute, staring at him.

“Cauldron, you ass. I’m going to propose to her.” Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he’d been carrying in his pocket for weeks now. He had been searching for the perfect opportunity to propose to her, yet he just hadn’t found it. Until now.

The ball would have everyone who was anyone in Day, and Azriel had even contacted Rhys this morning asking if he and Feyre could attend. Rhys, upon hearing Azriel’s plans, had instantly agreed and promised to pass the invitation along to Cassian and Nesta. He knew Elain would want her sisters there to witness the moment.

Not to mention that Azriel needed to prove to Elain that he was irrevocably choosing her. It was the best chance he’d get before her birthday or perhaps the Winter Solstice. Especially since he knew she’d been looking forward to the evening. He didn’t want her to miss it simply because she was upset with him.

“Don’t you think that’s a little rash?” Lucien questioned. Azriel really should’ve expected this interrogation. Outside of Azriel, Lucien was probably the most protective of Elain.

“I’ve had this for a while now. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment. I’ve always known I was going to spend my life with her, it was just a question of when.”

Lucien nodded, understanding what Azriel meant. As long-lived beings, a matter of weeks or months was nothing, especially when you were so certain of your trajectory.

“I’ll talk to her, but I can’t promise you anything.”

“I can even have her dress sent over to you. She forgot it in her rush to leave, but I know she was looking forward to going.”

“She would definitely catch onto the fact that I was in cahoots with you if that were the case. I’ll … try to figure something out. No promises though. She makes her own decisions.”

“Deal.” It would have to do, and all Azriel could do was plan for the best.


	4. Chapter 4

“Absolutely not.” Elain stood her ground. Lucien had waltzed into his suite on the morning of the Solstice Ball with a gown in hand, pleading with her to accompany him tonight. “As a representative of the Night Court, he’s expected to be there, and I only have this one last day to get my head on straight.”

“You’re right. As a representative of the Night Court, you’re expected to be there as well. I’ve kept you well-hidden all week, but don’t you think it’d be appreciated if you made one more appearance? Us High Fae are never ill for long.” He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, as he pointed out that she had been abed with fever for the past five days, as far as his father’s court had been concerned.

“You don’t have to be so smug about it.” Even in her reluctancy, she was eyeing the lilac, organdy gown he’d laid out across the bed. The flowers and gems embroidered into the bodice screamed of the summer holiday which they were celebrating, yet the plunging neckline which dipped to her navel and the slit for her leg were reminiscent of Night Court fashion.

It was gorgeous. She might have loved it even more than the gown she had brought from home, and she was itching to try it on, though she didn’t want to give Lucien the satisfaction. “I just don’t want to run into him,” she muttered, trying and failing miserably to pout when she _had_ been dying to attend the fabled ball for the first time.

“That’s why I’m asking you as my date. If you’re dancing with me, you can’t be bothered by him.”

“Won’t that look weird though? You’re with Vassa, and we’re … Nobody knows what’s happened this week.”

“I’d thank you not to forget that I know how to spin these things. I’ve been an emissary for centuries. Everyone knows our story—a mating bond broken because we cherish our friendship more and wanted to free our hearts from the constant tug. I’ll just tell everyone that we chose to go together as friends so I could show you the ropes. Our respective partners are supportive and understanding of this decision. Everyone has to agree that a Princess of Night and a Prince of Day makes a striking symbol of peace.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Have you been practicing how you’d convince me to leave this room all morning?”

“Well, I certainly didn’t want my purchase of a gown to go to waste,” he shot back, daring her to keep challenging him. “I even got myself an outfit to match. Would be a pity ...” He trailed off, averting his gaze in an absolutely pathetic attempt at a guilt trip.

Elain sighed. It was just one day earlier than she’d planned on having to see Azriel again, but it was inevitable wasn’t it? She couldn’t hide forever.

“Fine, you insufferable ass, but I get to keep the dress.”

“Of course, my lady.” Lucien sketched a mock bow. “A small price to pay for your company.”

The next moment, a leftover dinner roll from last night had made contact with his face. “Prick.”

* * *

Elain had spent the afternoon soaking and trying to school her emotions. She’d never been so nervous to see Azriel in all her life. Mainly because this was the first time she had no idea what to expect.

He had concealed the truth from her, but she had been the one to walk out on him—an incredibly idiotic move considering the fact that his mate would likely have been a convenient shoulder to cry on. She might have even convinced Azriel that he would be better off pursuing a relationship with her—the safe option, who was bound to him for all of eternity.

 _Why couldn’t I have just gotten two mates?_ Elain screamed internally at the Cauldron. _Would it have been so difficult to make Azriel mine and mine alone?_

But taking her frustrations out on a tub of water—which was, for all she knew, hiding on an island lost to time and history—would not solve the problem that the moment she caught his amber eyes tonight, her body would likely start shaking as she was left to wonder where they stood. Had she messed things up for good? Or were they still salvageable? Did he even still want her?

She knew he had run into Lucien throughout the week, which was only to be expected as they were all living in the same castle, but Lucien hadn’t told Elain if he’d asked about her. And Elain hadn’t wanted to ask. The light caress of Azriel’s scent hanging faintly around her mate was just enough to let the waves of nervousness wash over her. She wasn’t inviting its company in with open arms if she could help it.

When the sun began to set, Elain finally sat down in front of the mirror and began to tease her hair into loose curls and sweep it to one side. Then, she applied a light coat of makeup—just enough to hide the fact that she’d barely been sleeping these past few nights from the aching in her chest.

All the while, she could hear the crowds gathering, the parties which had been taking place all day in the streets as they celebrated the longest day of the year moving onto the palace grounds for the annual ball. 

The difference between the festivities here and the ones back home for the Winter Solstice were startling—as different as night and day, she mused, as she donned a pair of dangling diamond earrings and took one final look in the mirror.

“You ready?” Lucien appeared behind her, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves. He was resplendent in a light cotton tunic of the deepest plum, gold embroidery weaving intricate patterns along his chest.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Elain muttered. She felt like she was going to vomit.

“Just remember to stay by my side, and I’ll make sure you survive the night.”

“Always my knight in shining armor.” Elain stuck her tongue out at him.

“You know I’ll always protect my little flower,” he japed back as he offered her his arm.

* * *

Elain felt like she was floating through the evening as she found herself being ushered into the ball as part of the court’s procession, led swiftly over to where Helion was greeting his guests, and … There was a familiar outcropping of wings, yet they were slighter. The male wielding them wasn’t …

“Elain!” Feyre squealed as she barreled towards her sister, catching her up in a hug. “Oh my god. You look incredible!”

Elain returned her sister’s embrace, fumbling out a quick, “I didn’t know that you were coming tonight.”

“They were invited of course, and when I heard that they’d accepted at the last minute, well … I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for you,” Lucien cut in.

She flashed him a grateful smile. No wonder he had suddenly flipped the switch this morning and gotten so motivated to pull her out of her hidey hole.

“Nesta and Cassian came too! Although they’ve run off already, I’m sure you two will run into them at some point. I love the idea of you two attending together as well. It sends such a wonderful message—even if it is just as friends. Azriel can play second fiddle for just one night.”

Elain’s throat bobbed at the mention of the male whose attention she simultaneously craved and dreaded most right now. “Yeah. Just for the night.” She hoped it was true. Somehow, she’d find a way to mend everything with him. She hoped. The Illyrian-shaped hole in her heart was unbearable.

“If you don’t mind, could I have a dance with my date?” Lucien shot a coy glance at Elain’s sister.

“Oh, by all means!” Feyre was beaming. “We’ll catch up later,” she told Elain before flitting back to her mate’s side.

Elain let Lucien lead her onto the dance floor, and before she knew it, the ecstasy gained from twirling under the sunset lighting with her best friend by her side had lifted all the worry from her chest. They stayed there over the course of many songs, Elain beginning to crave something to drink.

She was going to suggest taking a breather after this song finished, but for now, she poured her heart into dancing. Lucien began spinning her around and around, until … She was suddenly no longer in Lucien’s arms.

Elain took in a gasping breath as she was flooded with the essence of Azriel. It took but a moment for her to be completely drowning in him, as lost as she had been for years now whenever she was in his presence.

“Hi,” was all he murmured as she gawked up at him with gaping eyes. Out of awe or terror she didn’t know. She was going to strangle Lucien for handing her over so easily. It had clearly been coordinated.

“Hi.” What did one say to the love of their life whom they’d walked out on?

“You look lovely tonight, El.”

“You too—I mean, you look handsome.” 

He chuckled, a warmth pooling in the liquid crystal of his gaze. “Can we go talk?”

“I think we can speak just fine right here,” Elain shot back. With the focus on movement necessitating some of their attention, she could be distracted if … Well, if things went downhill quickly. It also didn’t hurt that she could nimbly slip into the crowd at a moment’s notice. Out here on the dance floor was just safer.

“Elain, I’m sorry I tried to hide the fact that I had a mate from you.” Damn right he was. “I only meant … I only meant to spare you the pain of knowing. It was my burden to bear, and I worried about upsetting you.”

“You lied to my face. You pretended you were sick,” she accused.

“And it was all ill-advised. Trust me. I’ve had an entire week to regret the way I acted. I didn’t feel right, but you’re correct that I was lying when I said I was ill. To be fair, you _knew_ about her for years and neglected to tell me.”

Elain shrugged, embarrassed at the fact that she hadn’t trusted him enough to just tell him. Maybe if he had been prepared for the eventuality, none of this would have happened, and—

“I’ll promise no more secrets between us, if you will.” Azriel’s voice was soft and cautious.

“And how am I supposed to believe that?” The room was spinning around them.

“I’ll tell you another secret right now,” he offered.

“And what’s that?” Elain probed.

“I picked out that dress for you this evening.” Elain flushed. So Lucien very much _had_ been cooperating with Azriel to engineer this moment. Yet still, he’d tailored an outfit to match hers and everything just to take the edge off her curiosity. The sly fox. She couldn’t help noticing that it also went shocking well with Azriel’s tunic of a muted blue—something more reminiscent of a hue found during a sunset.

“And,” he continued, “I missed you this week. More than I ever thought possible.” Oh. This was much better than Elain had dared to hope.

“And,” he added once more, “I am a mated male no more.”

 _That_ caused Elain to trip over her own feet, Azriel catching her in his arms and pulling her once more into the rhythm of the dance.

“But …”

“Elain, how could you possibly think I could want to ruin what we have for a mating bond with a stranger? I know the bond can produce relationships which are better off platonic. I’ve seen one play out before my own eyes.”

“But when …?”

“The day after you left, when Lucien wouldn’t let me see you, I went and found her. We had a conversation and broke the bond off and maybe had a few drinks on me to compensate her for being so understanding of my situation.”

“But she could have been made for you,” Elain protested, “And you gave her up without even giving her a chance?”

“The Cauldron might have pushed us together, but she’s not the female I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“What?” Elain stopped cold in her tracks, as she noticed Azriel curtly nod over her shoulder. The next moment a horn sounded, and the denizens of the Day Court melted from the dance floor, until it was just Elain and Azriel, frozen in place.

“It’s always been you, Elain.” Azriel dropped to one knee, and Elain became very aware that the entire room was watching them now.

“I’ve been carrying this around with me for weeks now, but I can’t wait any longer to ask you. You pulled me out of the darkness, surrounding me with your light when I least deserved it. From the moment I met you, something within me changed. I was always the enshrouded friend, content to watch from the sidelines as everyone went on with their lives, but you saw me for who I was in those shadows—and you did not fear them. You met me there, easing me out until I was lost in you, enraptured by your presence.

“I waited centuries to find you and years on top of that for you to find your way to me as well. I’m not letting you out of my grasp for a second longer, if you’ll have me. Elain Archeron, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Elain didn’t know when she had started crying, but she could feel the warm trails creeping down her cheeks as she nodded breathlessly, her mouth fighting her body for control so she could finally whisper a resounding, “Yes.”

Azriel pulled something sparkling out of his pocket to reveal a rose gold band, threads entangled like vines, as they met at the head in the shape of petals which held a stunning ring of amethyst—conveniently matching her gown.

He slid it onto her trembling ring finger and stood to meet her, his lips finding her own in an unleashing of all the missed moments from the past week—the hunger to reconcile within evident as she poured her own unspoken words back into him.

Elain was vaguely aware of the raucous cheering surrounding them, of the music picking back up and of them being flooded with bodies as the crowd began to celebrate.

As they broke away from each other, she saw the others hurrying to join them, champagne glasses in hand and enormous grins on everyone’s faces—even Nesta, miraculously.

The two of them danced the night away, friends and family in tow, wondering how they had gotten so lucky.

When the party died down in the early hours of the morning, Azriel carried Elain back to their room, continuing to cradle her even as he laid them both down, completely exhausted.

“This is real, right?” Elain asked hazily, her body already trying to pull her into her dreams.

“One hundred percent,” he responded without missing a beat, a hand trailing lazily through her locks.

“I get to keep you?”

“Forever.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“And you’ll be mine?”

“Always,” Azriel murmured, attempting to pull her even further onto his chest.

“Good,” Elain murmured as she drifted off peacefully.


End file.
